


Rook to Dragon

by Spinestalker



Series: Those Three [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, And ABO naruto, Gen, I'll add more tags as needed as a few dark things my crop up, I'll tag by order of participation as the story progresses, M/M, Naruto will always be the hero and over powered he just has to get there, No beta sorry, Omega Uchiha Sasuke, Omega Verse, Pairings happen really late in the story so don't hold your breath, Time travel fuck-it-up, this is really just my excuse to write my three faves in a team sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24952717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spinestalker/pseuds/Spinestalker
Summary: It took Shikaku years to fully appreciate the series of odd occurrences that took place the Saturday before his son entered the Academy.  He expected laziness to be the ultimate undoing of the famed Ino-Shika-Cho team strategy and as it was, his son thought being a ninja “might be fun” and he’d “give it a shot” so at the time it still could have been true.(You can try and fix the world by sending your younger self advanced knowledge, but it's probably a bad idea to trust a 5-year-old to know what to do with it.)
Relationships: Inuzuka Kiba/Nara Shikamaru, Nara Shikamaru & Uchiha Sasuke, Nara Shikamaru & Uchiha Sasuke & Inuzuka Kiba, Platonic/onesided/past life/its complicated Kiba/Sasuke, Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Series: Those Three [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896871
Comments: 19
Kudos: 111





	1. The Promotion of a Rook

**Author's Note:**

> If you're looking for a Time Travel - Fix it, you'd struggle to find it here. I don't want to just rewrite Naruto with one character knowing too much. It's too easy. No one is safe and nothing will be happy.

It took Nara Shikaku years to fully appreciate what he witnessed the Saturday before his son entered the Academy. He regretted missing Shikamaru's entrance exam, so he found a break between a series of month-long missions to be home in a show of support. Between his own passive nature and his wife’s overbearing traits, Shikamaru had developed a lazy, disinterested personality. Shikaku had expected that to be the ultimate undoing of the famed Ino-Shika-Cho team strategy. As it was, his son thought being a ninja _“might be fun”_ and he’d _“give it a shot”_ so at the time it still could have been true.

It was also the first day home after three weeks and he had been looking forward to a lazy Saturday of sleeping late. With a pink sky and a cool April breeze making wind chimes dance outside, his wife was a welcome warmth. A noise from somewhere in the house roused him slightly, but with no sense of threat he was satisfied to drift back to a thoughtless slumber.

Then, with enough force to shake the entire room, the paper and bamboo shoji door slammed open and well-honed instinct had both him and his wife bracing for a fight.

Still disheveled from sleep, one grey pajama leg shoved higher than the other and hair sticking out from its tie in a fray, Shikamaru looked wide-eyed with bewilderment. Relief flooded both parents, but anxiety radiated off their only child in waves, despite his underdeveloped chakra system.

Shikamaru then stumbled forward, falling into his parents' laps and exploded into a sobbing mess. He clung to both of them at once, tiny fists digging into the duvet.

“You’re alive. You’re... I can’t...”

Taken back by the outburst of his normally apathetic son, Shikaku struggled to understand the muffled blubber spilling into Yoshino’s lap, but she melted and gathered him into her arms.

“Oh, _Sweety_ ,” she cooed, stroking his back, “You just had a nightmare.”

“No. No! It wasn’t. You... you’d...” Shikamaru gasped, unable to speak for the force of hiccups that wrecked his slight frame. “And I had to... we...”

Still hopeful to salvage the rest of his sleep, Shikaku hooked an arm around his son’s waist, pulling him to rest snug between himself and Yoshino.

“It’s okay, kid, you’re safe now.” He said, ruffling his son’s bedraggled hair. “No bad dreams in here.”

“No!” Shikamaru insisted, gripping his dad’s shirt. “No! You were dead! The Ten-tails killed you and... mom! You were trapped in the Infinite Tsukuyomi…”

Shikamaru’s explanation broke off into hysteria and incomprehensible insistent slurs. Shikaku struggled to understand, but his son was the picture of a 5-year-old waking from a very unpleasant dream and he assumed that was all it was.

“Infinite Tsukuyomi, huh? That’s quite a dream,” He said to placate the boy. Where _had_ he gotten that? Tsukuyomi was a sharingan genjutsu and there wasn’t a long list of shinobi who could even cast it. He _must_ have overheard someone else talking about it.

But Shikamaru was beyond consoling, and he gave such a vehement shake of his head that the last of his hair fell loose from its tie.

“It wasn’t a dream! It was just me and Kurama and we..” Shikamaru burst into frantic sobs again, face wet with tears and snot. Yoshino gave the sight a grim shake of her head.

“Well,” she declared, “I think you’ve been reading too many comic books.”

Shikamaru was quick to protest, but his mother pressed a kiss to his forehead in dismissal.

“I’ll start an early breakfast. I think we’re _all_ going to need it.”

Shikaku let out a yawn of grief and pushed the covers away. So much for sleep.

* * *

Shikamaru insisted on spending breakfast trying to explain the bizarre dream rather than eat. He kept backtracking mid-explanation to clarify something, which was inevitably interrupted by another leap as outlandish as the last. As he struggled to piece together the dream’s sequence, Yoshino’s _hmms_ and _yeahs_ grew more and more disinterested. Shikaku held out longer but when he cut himself off for the third time explaining some big shinobi alliance, he had to tune him out. It took a moment of dead silence before they realized Shikamaru had become aggravated with being ignored and dropped the topic. Yoshino tried to re-engage him but Shikamaru spent the rest of the meal glowering at his untouched food. Giving up she turned to her husband.

“Are you going to work today?” she asked.

“I was behind before I left, so I can only guess how much further I am now.”

“Well, when you have the chance, that drawer in Shikamaru’s closet jammed again.”

“I’ll look at it,” he agreed and expected her to tack on several more menial chores. Truthfully, he was glad to have a new topic, but Shikamaru spoke up again.

“Play Shogi with me.”

His son leveled him with a resolute expression comical on his young face, but a pang of guilt forced him to expel a lengthy breath. He had spent the morning dismissing Shikamaru’s anxieties after several months away. It was no wonder his dreams were full of monsters with powerful jutsus and grand wars killing his parents.

“We can work on Yin Release, if you want,” he offered instead.

“Oh! That’s exciting!” Yoshino exclaimed, standing as she took a few stray dishes to the kitchen. Shikaku expected him to jump at the chance. It was the beginning of their clan’s technique, and one of the few things Shikamaru had expressed interest in, but the boy’s brow creased and the zabuton he sat on threatened to rip in his white knuckled grip.

“I want to play Shogi. No handicaps.”

Both eyebrows shot up in surprise as Shikaku let a bemused grin cross his face. “You still haven’t won with a 6 piece handicap.”

“I’ll win with no handicaps,” Shikamaru declared. “And when I do you have to listen to my entire story.”

Shikaku puffed a laugh. His son had taken up a troublesome streak, and he wasn’t going to let him off easy.

“If you win with no handicaps, I’ll listen and believe everything you say no matter how confusing,” he mollified.

As if a weight was lifted from his shoulders, Shikamaru sprang to his feet, grabbing his father’s arm. “Okay, then. Let’s play.”

“Sure,” Shikaku humored him, but motioned to the table, “After you help your mother clean up.”

Shikamaru slumped, head falling back as he let out a long-suffering groan. Shikaku couldn’t help his laugh.

* * *

Wishing to take advantage of the early morning air, he moved the board to the engawa that wrapped around the inner garden, though Shikaku was the only one to pay the scenery any mind. Shikamaru made quick work to set up the board and Shikaku had only just gotten settled when Shikamaru pulled a piece into position for an opening move.

Unable to hide his grin at the grave frown his son gave the board, Shikaku crossed his arms and leaned against the post beside him

“You sure you wanna go first?”

“Yes,” Shikamaru said without looking up, “now move.”

Amusement turned into annoyance as Shikaku scowled, but the boy didn’t look away from whatever strategy he was building. Shikaku didn’t know what was causing this sudden shift in behavior, but it resembled his wife’s worst qualities too much to be amusing for long.

He was six, Shikaku reminded himself, and kids had phases, but Shikaku wouldn’t allow this stubbornness to go unpunished. He made his move, intent on making his son regret going first, but Shikamaru didn't take the bait and only replied by continuing to set up a solid protection around his king.

“If you underestimate me, dad, you’re gonna get embarrassed.”

“Troublesome brat.” Shikaku muttered and began setting up a strategy to end this game in as few moves as possible.

It was mid game when he realized Shikamaru had to have been practicing with someone else.

“Have you been playing with your grandfather?” He asked as he pushed a tile forward, advancing on what looked to be a vulnerable piece, only to have Shikamaru’s next move reveal it was the beginnings of a well-laid trap.

“No.”

“Ensui?” He guessed, moving a piece to reinforce what was now an exposed flank.

“No.” Shikamaru repeated, moving into a position to promote a piece. His eyes darted across the board, mapping out any contingency that might get thrown at him. The winner wasn’t obvious to Shikaku yet, but soon would be. They were only a few moves from end game and, regardless of his next move, Shikaku’s generals were in the crosshairs of Shikamaru’s newly promoted Rook.

Shikamaru had been playing since he was old enough to understand the rules, but he’d never displayed this level of understanding? Had he always just been holding back? What had changed?

With no other choices at his disposal, Shikaku sacrificed his Gold General to ensure he wasn’t in check before he could manage a counter attack. If he could crush this trap here, he’d have full access to white’s king.

Just as Shikamaru made his next move, Shikaku’s attention turned to the sound of running and the sense of someone approaching. Seconds later an adolescent, no older than Shikamaru, dressed in a high collar blue shirt and white shorts burst through the treeline. He nearly tripped in exhaustion as he came to a stop before them and doubled over to gasp for breath. Shikamaru blinked at him, even more surprised than Shikaku.

“Sa-Sasuke?”

 _Sasuke_? Shikaku didn’t recognize him as he wasn’t one of the boys he’d seen playing with his son, and he’d certainly remember this one considering the red and white Uchiha fan on his back.

It took several seconds of bracing against his knees before Sasuke calmed enough to speak.

“We need to talk.”

  
Without waiting for a response or even acknowledging Shikaku, the black-haired boy grabbed Shikamaru’s wrist, dragging the youngest Nara along behind him as they disappeared into the tree line.

Ready to dismiss the incident as the usual rude behavior that prevailed throughout the main Uchiha branch, Shikaku turned his attention back to the board. Shikamaru’s last move had promoted a Bishop, who was within striking distance of the weakened flank around Shikaku’s king. That damn Rook would have him in checkmate by the next two moves.

Perhaps it was best the game had been interrupted.


	2. Distant Thunder (One Year Later)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shikamaru's a 6-year-old with way too much on his plate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got away with me and I considered breaking it up but it all happens on the same day and I am not one to post short chapters. Thank you to everyone who left lovely comments. I'll try and post at least once every 7 days.

Filled with vague out of context memories, the dreary dream that wasn’t a dream was easy to forget, especially after a year. Shikamaru had allowed his parents to dismiss it as an overactive imagination and even though he _knew_ better, sometimes he believed it too. Weeks passed before it occurred to him something horrible was coming, but there wasn’t much he could do when there was so little he could remember.

_“Shikamaru.”_

He preferred days spent napping in school or playing games with his friends. There was no time for the amorphous vast gray sky that loomed overhead threatening rain. If he didn’t look out the window, he wouldn’t even notice it. For now Shikamaru chose not to look. If it rained in Konoha today, it was just going to have to rain. Hopefully, he could nap through it.

A poke in his right shoulder was diligently ignored.

The nazily tone of their math teacher coupled with his nasty habit of calling on whoever he thought was paying the least attention forced Shikamaru to spend the class staring ahead. Once the lesson stopped and papers passed out, his head dropped to his desk. He managed a decent nap absent of doom and gloom and the end of the world and he had no intention of budging until lunch.

The next poke to his shoulder was more insistent, followed by a bark of his name.

“Shikamaru!” Sasuke hissed and poked him again. “Hurry and fill out the test. He’s about to take it up.”

Shikamaru lifted his head at the word ‘test’, bleary vision taking in the paper under his pillowed arms. Twenty-five triple digit math problems lined up in neat rows.

Oh, man. His mom would kill him if he failed another test.

To his left Kiba let out a self-satisfied chuckle as he smartly filled out the answers with a flourish, and behind him Naruto glared at his paper as if it were a cryptic message insulting his intelligence.

Knowing their math teacher, it probably was.

“Three more minutes,” the man announced at the front of the class. His eyes fell to Shikamaru and Sasuke with his usual disapproving frown. Unconcerned, the Nara let his head flop back to the desk but this time Sasuke nudged him with his palm.

“Come on, it won’t take that long. It’s _easy_.”

Shikamaru groaned and lazily grappled in his bag for a pencil but Sasuke was quick to offer his own. With a long-suffering sigh, he snatched it to begin filling in the answers. He was halfway through the third line when Sasuke leaned over to nag him again.

“Remember to show your work, or you’ll get docked points.”

Looking at the equations, Shikamaru tried to remember how to show his work on basic math. He didn't need his fingers to add two numbers. He glanced at Kiba’s paper, noting the slashes and digits scattered haphazardly then to Sasuke's, whose answers looked much more polished.

“Enough,” came the teacher's barking tone, snatching a startled girl’s test from her hands. “Your time is done.”

“How lame...” Shikamaru muttered. He filled out the answers as quickly as he could, ignoring the request to show his work. Removing 229 from 412 was pretty straightforward.

Their math teacher, Tsujii-sensei, was a man few students liked, and Shikamaru fully expected to be docked points regardless of how much work he showed. His sevens were always marked as ones and clearly defined sixes get graded as zeros.

Shikamaru finished the last problem just as the man reached their row, looking in turn at each paper and student with disdain. He towered over the sitting 6-year-olds and gave Sasuke a pinning glare as he passed. Shikamaru ignored the one leveled at him and let his head flop back to his desk once he was relieved of his work. He was still chronically sleepy and couldn’t fight the yawn that cracked his jaw.

Behind him Naruto grumbled about how mean the teacher was for making them take that test.

“It’s okay,” Chōji offered as he gave Naruto a grin. “There were a lot of problems. I didn’t think I’d finish in time!”

“I didn’t understand half of what he was saying....” Naruto muttered, then a switch flipped and he perked up with an enormous grin. “Oh well, I’ll be too busy being an awesome ninja to worry about math, ya know?”

“That’s definitely not how that works,” Sasuke muttered then more loudly: “Even the Hokage needs to know math.”

Naruto made a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’ll get someone else to do it. Maybe I’ll hire you, Sasuke. You’re good at this stuff.”

“Maybe I’ll be the one hiring Sasuke to do all the Hokage math.” Kiba gave a cocky sharp toothed grin as he removed Akamaru from the perch on his head.

Puffing his cheeks in irritation, Sasuke glared at both of them. “Well, maybe _I’ll_ be Hokage and neither of you will be ninjas because you can’t do basic math.”

“Hey,” Kiba protested, leaning across Shikamaru’s desk with his fist up in a challenge. “I finished and I bet I’ll make a perfect score.”

“Yeah...” Sasuke drawled with a flat expression, eyes flickering between Akamaru and Shino, who was sitting directly in front of Kiba “I wonder how you managed that.”

“Eh,” Kiba dismissed leaning back again. “We Inuzuka’s are a little smarter than everyone else, so obviously it can’t be helped.”

“Smart isn’t the word I’d use...” Sasuke said under his breath, which made Kiba ready to fight again. Fortunately, before he could launch himself at the boy, the lunch bell dismissed them.

“Yes!” Chōji exclaimed, his oversized bento lifted as if it were a prize. “I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving,” Shikamaru pointed out. Naruto's stomach let out an uncomfortable rumble, and he slouched onto his desk.

“I forgot to make mine.”

“You _always_ forget to bring one,” Sasuke chided.

“I know, I know, and I actually had _food_ this time. But I slept in, ya know, so I ended up missing breakfast. Iruka-sensei showed up to make sure I didn’t skip again.” He pushed to his feet, hands folding behind his head. “He keeps lecturing me.”

“Oh man, I got into so much trouble for skipping on Friday,” Kiba announced as they made their way to the door. “Ma’s always getting on to me about slacking. Like she has any room to talk. Me and Hana are the ones that do all the work around the kennels.”

“My dad just told me not to make a habit of it,” Chōji shrugged, looking back to Shikamaru and Sasuke, who brought up the rear of their group. “What did your parents say?”

“My Mom nagged me. But it wasn’t really any different from any of her other bellyaching.” Shikamaru gave an aloof shrug, then turned to Sasuke. “You get out unscathed?”

“Hardly,” Sasuke slaps his palm onto his face with a groan. “My dad is so intense when he’s upset that I could barely eat breakfast. Mom had to walk me to school today and I'm expected to be home immediately after. He’ll probably expect me to train even if it’s raining.”

“I’d think you would be happy about that,” Shikamaru commented as they neared the doors to the school yard. “Since that’s all you ever wanna do.”

“Not the juvenile basic training I have to do for them,” Sasuke rolled his eyes and gave a dismissive flick of his wrist. “And _definitely_ not in the rain.”

“Oh, yeah, I hope it doesn’t rain during lunch,” Chōji muttered, looking at his bento with a pout, “I don’t want my lunch to get soggy.”

“Sa-Sasuke-kun.”

The call of one of their names brought the boy’s to a stop, Sasuke turning his attention to a mousy-haired girl holding out a box wrapped in a pink napkin that was three shades lighter than her face. 

“I- I made you lunch, Sasuke-kun. Please accept it.”

Behind them, Kiba grunted his annoyance and Naruto snickered. There was always a gaggle of girls that hovered just outside their presence at lunch. Once every few days Sasuke received try-hard tokens of affections that he regarded with varying degrees of annoyance. This one, Yui, had grown bold in recent weeks, going as far as depositing notes and candies on Sasuke’s desk, all of which were discarded to either the trash or Chōji’s never ending appetite. 

Shikamaru expected Sasuke to snub his nose at her and huff his usual patronizing response, but for once he paused. He glanced at the offering, then at his own lunch, then his eyes turned to the side as though considering something behind him.

Then he took it and gave a grunt. “Thanks.”

Watching the scene from behind her, her friends’ expressions opened up in shock, jaws comically agape in disbelief. The girl, whose color was now a burning shade of flustered, tried to stammer something but Sasuke was already turning away from her to walk past his own shocked group of friends. He paused beside Naruto and shoved the bento at him, forcing him to grapple with it or drop it.

“Here's your lunch.”

There was a sound of horror from behind them and Shikamaru couldn’t stop the snort of amusement that escaped him. The poor girl's hard work was so carelessly rejected and given to someone few people liked. Sasuke didn’t bother to look back, breaking through the doors to head directly to their lunch spot. It took Naruto a second to register what had happened.

“That was kinda mean, ya know,” Naruto protested as he rushed to catch up. “Shouldn’t you take this one and give me the one your mom made?”

“No,” Sasuke stated as he plopped next to Shikamaru’s usual lounging spot under the tree. “I don’t want her to think I like her.”

“She is pretty cute,” Kiba mused as he looked over at the girls, who were both consoling and teasing their crying friend. Sasuke just shrugged.

“They’re girls. They all kinda look the same.”

“Ah! But I bet its something super special. “Naruto opened the re-gifted lunch to reveal fruits cut into girly shapes with fried pork resting on a bed of rice. Sasuke wrinkled his nose as the blond dug in.

“Ugh, I hate strawberries and kiwi. They always try to give me sweets. I wish they’d just leave me alone.”

“Girls _are_ weird,” Naruto agreed with a spray of food. “But you’re always so mean to them.”

“I can take that back, if you’d rather.”

An angry growl, either from Naruto or his stomach, erupted at the threat and he yanked the lunch to safety behind him. “You aren’t that cruel.”

Sasuke shrugged indifferently, “Am I? I don’t know. I’m an asshole. But at least I can do math.”

“Not everyone is a brain like you.”

“Hmm, you know, that tonakatsu does look good.” Sasuke teased, clicking his tongue in thought.

“You bastard...” 

Sasuke lunged forward with chopsticks outstretched and Naruto let out a cry, putting his foot on Sasuke’s chest to protect his prize. 

“This is mine, now, asshole. You can eat your own!”

“Those two...” Chōji muttered, shaking his head at the bickering, “I can’t ever tell if they are friends or not.”

Shikamaru sighed, poking into his own lunch. “If Naruto had pigtails for Sasuke to pull, it would probably make more sense.”

Before Chōji could ask for clarification, Sasuke returned with a piece of pork secured in his chopsticks and a cocky grin on his face. Kiba gave him a scowl, having been stuck between the two as they squabbled. 

“I thought you didn’t want the girls to think you like them.” 

“I don’t,” Sasuke said with a tilted chin. He then tossed the piece to Akamaru, who caught it in the air with one chomp. Kiba let out a bark of a protest.

“Hey! He has a very specific diet! You’re gonna make him fat!”

“Hardly,” Sasuke dismissed with a rude wave of his chopsticks, “He was the one doing all the heavy lifting in math, anyway.”

“He’s a dog, he can’t do math.”

“Maybe, but _Shino_ can.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kiba snubbed, turning away from the insult. Sasuke rolled his eyes and let out a huff.

“ _Riiiight_.”

As the five of them settled into their respective lunches, Sasuke’s attention narrowed on Akamaru. The dog was looking at Kiba with a sorrowful expression which made Kiba huff in an unspoken response. Akamaru’s head drooped even more. Shikamaru wasn’t sure what was going on, but thankfully no one else was inclined to start another argument.

After eating, Shikamaru was content to settle back into the grass while Naruto and Kiba exchanged barbs and brags. Sasuke tossed out the errant provoking taunt but Chōji’s good natured comments occasionally broke the tension.

The sky was still a gloomy undefined mass with movement too slow to make for pleasant cloud watching. He closed his eyes and covered his face with the crook of his arm, giving up on the sky in favor of a nap. If it rained, it rained.

* * *

It was just after lunch when rain finally pelted the windows, leaving afternoon training canceled in favor of a lecture on chakra types. This inevitably devolved into Iruka-sensei answering question after question regarding famous Shinobi with unusual combinations. There was a lengthy story about some kage of a fallen village that could control the weather, but Shikamaru slept through it.

Despite his mother’s warnings, he hadn’t grabbed a coat or umbrella, so the walk home was sure to be miserable. Thankfully, with Sasuke grounded, he wouldn’t be followed home today. Shikamaru didn’t mind, even though his mom always had a pinched expression, but sometimes his friend’s clinginess left him little time for his precious sleep. Sasuke didn’t _demand_ his attention, but Shikamaru had a hard time not giving it, anyway.

If _Before_ loomed like rain clouds, Sasuke was thunder that shook the whole house. He was undeniable proof that Shikamaru’s anxieties weren’t unfounded. 

Perhaps his older self had over shot. What did he think a 5, now 6-year-old, could do to prevent the end of the world? Surely his genin self would have been more useful. He would have certainly remembered and understood more. 

Unless there was a reason. A very good reason.

Shikamaru looked over his arms to Sasuke as the boy dutifully spent the last of their class working on his homework. 

His recollection had been clearer that first morning, though any tactical plan he his older-self might have come up with had been too complicated and out of reach. The only idea a 5-year-old could manage was getting his father to listen to him but then Sasuke showed up with a _Before_ of his own and a story that was nothing like Shikamaru’s.

Whatever happened in Sasuke’s dream, he had been given a list of instructions that were crisper and clearer than anything Shikamaru had been able to piece together from his own. The first was to stop Shikamaru from talking to his father. The details had been lost to Sasuke, but the reason had been clear: the bad guy had a Plan B.

He spent the rest of class lazily watching the second hand of the clock. There was only a few minutes before the last bell when their math teacher came in to speak with Iruka-sensei. Their Shinobi teacher frowned at whatever he was saying, as Tsujii-sensei looked over the students. Dread filled Shikamaru’s gut when his eyes fell on him.

More than just being a grumpy old man, Tsujii-sensei struck all the wrong nerves for him. Most of his bad feelings came from fragments that reminded him of his dream, like the cloudy sky or the full moon. Others came from being a child but understanding adults far better than any normal 6-year-old had a right.

Tsujii-sensei was one of their few teachers that dressed like a civilian, but Shikamaru would bet a year's worth of allowance his cane had a much sharper point to it. For his service to the Leaf, his retirement had been to teach grade school level math. He was humorless, strict, and treated his students with bitter disregard.

And as indifferent as he was to Naruto, barely noticing the blond even when the boy attempted to understand the lesson plan, it was the treatment of Sasuke that really set his nerves on end. He sneered _Uchiha_ as if it were an insult to be spat and regarded him as if he couldn’t see him properly without looking down his nose. Sasuke had learned fast to make his handwriting as clear as possible, and to follow the man’s instructions to a T, because he looked for any excuse to refuse Sasuke a perfect grade.

He readied his bag and waited with bated breath for the dismissal bell to ring. When it came he had started to hope for escape without incident, but Tsujii-sensei bellowed over the chaos of scattering children.

“Nara, Inuzuka. _Uchiha._ Stay behind.”

“Ah _man,_ ” Kiba muttered while Sasuke’s worried gaze met Shikamaru’s scowl. He was sure Tsujii-sensei had been the one to rag on them for Friday, but if this was about them skipping the other two would have been called out as well. As the class emptied, Chōji offered the three an encouraging _good luck_ while Naruto unhelpfully hummed an exaggerated dirge.

Tsujii-sensei looked at the three of them with a deep disapproving frown, three papers that looked suspiciously like the test they had taken earlier clutched to his chest. He glared at them as if readying a capital punishment case but mercifully Iruka-sensei had remained behind to speak with them as well. 

“Is there something you three would like to fess up to?” he asked, his expression of disappointment softer and far less intimidating. The three of them exchanged glances, Sasuke the only one genuinely confused.

“Three tests with identical answers,” Tsujii-sensei informed them with his usual inflectionless chill. Sasuke’s nose wrinkled, and he shot a miffed glare at Kiba, who gave a nonchalant shrug. 

“Well, were they all right? I don’t see the problem.”

If Tsuji-sensei had been an alpha, he would have growled, but he wasn’t and instead he directed at them a glare that wilted Kiba’s bravado. He flipped the papers to display. “This is _not_ how you do math.” 

Sasuke’s was filled out in textbook fashion, Shikamaru’s was just answers, and Kiba’s was...

Well, Kiba’s was correct except for the poorly executed approximation of ‘showing work.’

“You three are troublemakers,” the man criticized. “Cheating on tests is dishonorable and you should all be failed.”

“But we didn’t cheat,” Sasuke tried to argue, even though he’d been accusing Kiba only hours ago. “Besides, it _is_ a ninja academy.”

“When you get caught cheating as a ninja, you get _killed_ ,” Tsujii snapped, his gaze on Sasuke three times as icy. “Besides, _you_ were whispering the entire test.”

“I wasn’t-...” Sasuke stumbled over his immediate denial, glancing between Shikamaru and their teachers. “It wasn’t the whole test, it was the last few minutes of it. I just wanted to make sure Shikamaru woke up in time to finish it.”

“And how convenient he got all the same answers as you with no effort.”

“The same answers anyone who can add numbers together would get,” Sasuke argued, cheeks pink with indignation. “Shikamaru’s smarter than everyone else in the class, he’s probably even smarter than you! So why would he need to cheat?”

Beady eyes trailed to Shikamaru, who had yet to even acknowledge the teacher’s reprimand with anything more than boredom.

“So, what?” Kiba asked with a weak voice. “We fail the test and you tell our parents?”

“If it were up to me,” Tsujii-sensei snarled, “you’d all be thrown out of school.”

Anxiety rolled off Kiba and Sasuke at those words, but Shikamaru’s frown hardened. 

“But it’s _not_ up to you,” Shikamaru finally spoke in his usual lazy drawl. Such an innocuous statement. Tsujii was a bully, and a bully in a very dangerous position, but luckily for them this was a Shinobi school. As a _‘civi’,_ a man like him didn’t have a rank to throw around.

Shikamaru made a point to look at the chūnin standing meekly to the side, disregarding the math teacher entirely. 

“Yes, well,” Iruka-sensei cleared his throat at the sudden attention. “We will have you three take another test, but intend to inform your parents about the incident tomorrow.” 

Kiba let out a groan and Sasuke fisted his hair in frustration, neither one of them looking forward to that fallout, but Shikamaru just sighed. It would be troublesome, giving his mom something new to nag him about, but it all sounded the same after a while.

“Sit apart and no one speaks a word,” Tsujii ordered, shoving forward three new exams with twice as many equations. Kiba and Sasuke begrudgingly retreated to separate desks, but Shikamaru made no motion to take the paper. Even with Iruka only feet away, he didn’t want to put his back to this man.

For the first time outside of his dream, Shikamaru found himself blindly infuriated, and it was all he could do not to flip the guy off.

_He would show his fucking work._

Fishing out Sasuke’s pencil, he snatched the paper and smacked it to the wall in full view of both men. He worked methodically, writing in one answer as he mentally solved the next. It took less than a minute.

The smug sneer had dropped from Tsujii’s face, but Shikamaru wasn’t comfortable with the guarded expression that now examined him. When he pushed the paper at the man, he longed to shove the pencil up the enormous nose and erase it away.

"May I be dismissed now, _sensei,_ " he demanded more than asked, his eyes hard on Tsujii, but it was Iruka-sensei who stammered a reply.

"Ah, yes, of course."

Shikamaru grabbed his bag, catching Kiba’s wide-eyed expression. Sasuke wasn’t as awed as much concerned, though Shikamaru was too worked up to be worried about himself.

He had been looking forward to a lazy evening of napping to the sounds of pattering rain and if he left now, he’d get home before it got any worse but a familiar anxiety crept up and he chose to wait for Sasuke.

The other boy’s devotion to him was sometimes unnerving, if for anything more than how un-Sasuke it seemed. But that was saying there was a definitive Sasuke. He couldn’t remember enough of the details to piece together what had made his future-self’s version so angry and power hungry, but that Sasuke didn’t exist now, nor had it existed in Sasuke’s own _Before_.

The Sasuke that did exist was happy and trusting. He sometimes tried too hard. He nagged Shikamaru to do better, gave his unsolicited sweets to Chōji, and underhandedly tried to help Naruto. He even stuck up for Kiba, who was more hostile and resentful to Sasuke than anyone else their age. He was a 6-year-old with 6-year-old interest with 6-year-old friends. He got lost in his life with even more ease than Shikamaru.

It was five minutes later when Sasuke found Shikamaru stewing in his own irritation at the front door, glaring at the dreary drizzle as though it had personally offended him.

“I didn’t think you’d wait.”

“Eh,” Shikamaru shrugged. “Troublesome. Besides, I don’t have an umbrella.”

“Oh,” Sasuke, who did, opened his up. “I’ll walk you home if you want.”

“Only if it gets worse by the time we split.”

Sasuke held the umbrella between them as they walked shoulder to shoulder. It didn't take too long before he huffed in irritation.

“I’m so mad at Kiba,” he declared. “He can’t even cheat properly. It’s his fault we got into trouble.”

“I think the only thing that got _you_ into trouble was whatever crawled up Tsujii’s ass...”

“Oh man, he is so mean, isn’t he? But you showed his stubby nose,” Sasuke grinned as if it had been his own personal triumph. “I bet he'll never question your work again.”

Shikamaru’s shoulders drooped, “I was pissed but I’m sure he’s gonna make me regret it.”

“At least Kiba got to see it, too, even if it’s just because he's a crappy liar.”

“Why do you care so much?” Shikamaru asked, “It’s not like it matters that he cheated.”

“He should learn. It’s not _that_ hard.”

“It’s just math, Sasuke. Some people aren’t good at it. Besides, like you said, it _is_ a ninja academy.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have to be all suave and cocky to us about it like we’re stupid. It’s obvious he uses Akamaru to cheat on everything.”

“Well...” Shikamaru cocked his head to the side. “ _Is_ it obvious?”

“Oh yeah,” Sasuke explained with a wave of his finger. “He puts him on his head and Akamaru tells him what other people have. They don’t need verbal communication to do it. It’s an Inuzuka thing, but I totally know how it works.”

Shikamaru’s feet were slowing as he considered what Sasuke was telling him. He knew a little about the Inuzukas, and he knew they could communicate with their ninken, but Sasuke knowing how it worked struck a chord. 

“You do?”

“Well, yeah. I mean... I _think_ I do. I could do it if I tried. I did it before.”

_Before._

Shikamaru grabbed Sasuke’s arm, pulling him to a halt. “You’re telling me you know... I mean that you could just...?” 

“Well, yeah. I’m pretty sure _Kiba_ was the one who showed me.” Sasuke wrinkled his nose in doubt. “Maybe? I think so.”

Everything sort of stopped as something horrifying occurred to Shikamaru. Well, there was a package of horrifying things but some of them would stay in the box for now.

“So you just know another clan’s-,” he broke off, looking around to see if anyone might hear them, but the streets were mostly empty save a few people who were rushing to get from the rain.

“That's not something you should know, Sasuke,” Shikamaru finished with as much seriousness as he could manage. “You should leave it alone.”

“Why? It’s super easy. I’m sure lots of people already do.”

“No,” Shikamaru insisted, putting his hand on his hip and pinching the bridge of his nose, “Lots of people _don’t_. And you shouldn’t either.”

Sasuke looked soured at this, and Shikamaru was concerned he didn’t understand how serious this was. If Sasuke remembered _this_ he might remember a lot more dangerous secrets that would otherwise be limited to only clan members... 

A knot formed in his stomach as he resisted the temptation to ask what _he_ had been foolish enough to teach Sasuke. He honestly wasn’t sure he wanted an answer and asking could very well trigger Sasuke to remember something best left forgotten. 

He nudged them into walking again. “So.. _Kiba_ was with us?”

“Well, yeah. I mean...” Sasuke’s face turned bright red, and he glanced away. “Was he not with you before?”

“No. I was alone.” That was the only thing Shikamaru was sure of. Well, _almost_ sure. When he thought about it, there was always another sense of presence, but nothing he could put his finger on. “Do you... remember much?”

“I still dream about it almost every night.”

“ _Still?”_ A year later? This was a revelation. “Do you remember any of it?”

“No, its all jumbled and scary,” Sasuke explained with a heavy shrug. “Didn’t we write everything down at the start, though?”

“We did, but you had the book last.”

Sasuke narrowed his eyes as he considered this. “No, I’m sure _you_ had it last. You wanted to make a list of the important stuff.”

“No way, _you_ had it last because you had another dream a few nights later, _remember?”_

“Yeah, but I gave it back to you.”

The two had come to a stop in the middle of a crossroads, one road leading to the Nara Forest and the other to the Uchiha Compound. Shikamaru was _positive_ Sasuke was wrong. He hadn’t known his friend was _still_ dreaming about it, but he had known he kept having them for several days afterwards.

He shook his head, “Lets just both look for it tonight. I wanna see if there’s something we need to worry about _now._ I have a bad feeling.”

“You always have a bad feeling.”

“And it’s very troublesome,” Shikamaru agreed as he scratched his head. He looked down the direction he needed to go. Despite his earlier thoughts on the subject, he kinda wished Sasuke was coming home with him. “Are you going to be okay? I mean... because of Friday?”

“My dad’s ignoring me in disappointment.” Sasuke heaved a shrug and rolled his eyes. “He’ll forget I exist again soon enough.”

Shikamaru wrinkled his nose at such callous expectation. His own father was always busy but he at least _tried_ sometimes, and he was never _ignored_ or expressed any disappointment even when Shikamaru was in the wrong. Resignation, maybe, but not disappointment.

That’s the one thing he probably couldn’t handle. Disappointing his father. 

Sasuke waved his hand at Shikamaru’s worried frown. “He thinks because I’m 6-years-old that I should take all things very seriously and never have any fun. The Uchiha are not a clan of fun-havers, don’t you know?”

“Not a clan of fun-havers, you say?”

Both of them jumped, Sasuke almost dropping his umbrella. Itachi greeted them with a placid smile, dry in his own raincoat and umbrella. Sasuke went sheet white, his eyes wide and mouth shaped to form an excuse for what he’d said, but no sound came out.

“You were late. Mother sent me to track you down.” Itachi explained after a moment of watching his brother flailing for words. “I had a feeling I’d find the two of you off somewhere plotting.”

“We weren’t plotting!” Sasuke insisted, “Tsujii-sensei made us retake a test because he thought we were cheating.”

Itachi’s eyebrows lifted. “ _Were_ you cheating?”

“Of course not! Oh, you should have seen the look on his face when Shikamaru filled out the whole test in like two seconds and shoved it in his face. It was _brilliant._ ”

Itachi looked at Shikamaru, who shook his head. “It wasn’t two seconds.”

“Well,” Itachi said patiently to his brother, beckoning him with a wave of his hand. “We should get home before mom sends someone for _me_ too.”

“Uh... Wait.” Sasuke hesitated long enough to shove his umbrella into Shikamaru’s hand. “You can give it back later.”

“Thanks...” Shikamaru said as Sasuke dodged into the rain to take shelter beside Itachi. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye!” Sasuke waved cheerfully. “See you tomorrow!”

Shikamaru stood still as he watched his friend walk away, hair fondly ruffled by his brother. Sensing they were being observed, Itachi turned back and for a moment his eyes looked red. Anxiety wholly for Sasuke built up again, and he felt the urge to chase after, but he only bit his lip and turned down the path that would take him home.

He hoped cloud cover blocked out the sky tonight. He really needed the sleep.

* * *

A rain slicked Konoha glittered under the full moon, a welcome sight for the homesick Shisui despite the laundry list of everything he’d have to do in the coming days. He had a week off, which was grand, but he knew he’d be expected to meet with his clans elders, the Hokage, _and_ Danzō, which made him wish his mission had drug on a little longer. As soon as he passed the Uchiha compound gates, he used a shunshin to fill the last block to his apartment. 

No matter how his entire body longed for his own bed, he always dreaded the ambient melancholy of his empty apartment after a long mission. The eerie suspension of air and dusty pictures of long dead family members looking at him like ghosts waiting to manifest and welcome him.

“I’m home,” he said softly into the darkness, and as always there were no ghosts to answer back.

The intrinsic loneliness of his small empty apartment sapped the last dredges of his energy. He considered falling face first into his bed, but bypassed it in favor of a quick shower. The whole place smelled musty, so he shoved open the window to let in fresh air. He’d have to air out his bedding tomorrow, but he still had blood caked under his nails and it had been weeks since he’d had more than cold streams to clean with. 

His captain, who was too serious of a person to be tolerable for such extended periods of time, had forced them to avoid civilians for the two week turned two month mission. Only once, when everyone on his team was about to rebel for a decent bath, had he allowed them to find an inn.

Then there were bandits, a poison induced rut, and a whole thing with a nukenin happened that had them all agreeing to avoid civilization for the duration of the mission.

Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about _that_ for another year. (Honestly, if he never had another rut he'd be pretty damn happy.)

He spent his shower half asleep, letting the searing heat of the hot water soak into his weary muscles, willing away the existential thoughts that always crept in when he was alone. Once dressed in a shirt and shorts, he padded his way into his living space. He let out a jaw aching yawn as he toweled his hair dry. 

“Shisui.”

The voice, though familiar, had him spinning on the intruder with blazing red eyes that lit darkness in brilliant definition. The intruder’s form was irregular, blurred and feathery at the edges, but it was in the shape of his best friend. He let out a sigh of relief and blinked his eyes back to their usual warm brown, but the sudden loss of adrenaline made him feel weak.

“Fucking Itachi...” Shisui groaned at the clone in protest, his entire body echoing the sentiment with a slouch. “I just got home, it’s 1am, what the fuck, man?”

“I need you to come to me. I’m at my house.”

“Can it wait till the morning?”

“No. This is important.”

The gravity of the words sank to the pit of his stomach. He’d tried hard not to think about it, focus on the mission, but it had made sleeping on the cold hard ground much harder. Two months was plenty of time for a volatile situation to change. 

“Is this about...?”

“No.” Itachi answered, his crow clones even more cryptic than his real self. “It’s personal. There’s a window open for you. And be quick. Once he wakes you’ll miss it.” With that the crows scattered, leaving nothing but feathers drifting to his dusty floor. He sighed at the mess, scratching his wet head. He really regretted teaching him that.

Shisui looked over at his futon, dusty and musty, and longed to face plant into it for at _least_ 12 hours. But Itachi wasn’t someone who asked for help and Shisui wasn’t someone who would have turned him away. He took only another moment to get his shoes before he materialized perched on the open window seal of an unfamiliar room. 

Moonlight flooded around his shape, casting a shadow that obscured all but the amorphous shapes that made up a typical bedroom. Sasuke’s, he reasoned quickly, though Itachi’s form was the first thing he noticed. Spinning vibrant red eyes stood out in the blackness, fixed on the bedraggled child tossing his head in his sleep. There was a distinctive sharp scent that permeated the room and overwhelmed his senses, but Shisui couldn’t place it.

“Wha-” Shisui started, but his friend lifted his hand for silence.

“Just watch.”

Confused, Shisui stepped into the room, allowing moonlight to flood over the bed. Sensing the brightness even in sleep, Sasuke whimpered and jerked, fighting the covers that bound his legs. 

At first he thought the boy might be ill. His chest heaved and sweat matted his hair, but as he kicked and twisted, the scene became clearer. He was the picture of a kid in the throes of a nightmare, but Itachi wouldn’t have asked him to come witness his brother having an unpleasant dream.

He pushed chakra into his eyes, allowing himself to take in the more subtle details of the scene, but a shock of light had him blinking in a moment of dilated blindness.

In his bed, Sasuke whimpered, flinging himself about as static electricity danced across his skin. Sparks shot off where the current discharged against his covers, flowing up his distressed body..

Shisui exhaled in astonishment as he crouched next to Sasuke's head, eyeing the charge coalescing into his twitching fisted hand. The chakra, he realized, was what he had been smelling. It rolled off him so thick he could taste the sharp ozone of the lightning.

“Is he channeling _lightning_ release _in his sleep?_ ”

“Just watch,” Itachi responded, his own eyes still set on his brother. Shisui, officially intrigued, sat beside his friend, legs crossed as he observed the child. 

With his sharingan he could observe the subtle movements of muscle under the crackling skin. He tried to figure out if it was the charge he was putting off that was causing his pain, that somehow he unconsciously fought his own lightning nature, but as the boy writhed and flailed Shisui realized his hand wasn’t in a fist. He held it as if he were holding a sword.

Whatever battle he was fighting in his dream, he was desperate. He muttered, but they were breathy syllables that came together to form nothing but desperate jumbled pleas. His tear-streaked face contorted as he teeth grit, and occasionally he yanked his dream sword in a slash that flung his body nearly off the bed.

And then the chakra flow stopped.

At first there was nothing, just the gasping body of an exhausted child still deep asleep. Shisui looked at Itachi, wondering if it was over, but Itachi leaned closer, his focus even more intense than before.

“ _-rama.”_

The partial word came out with a whimper, and the 6-year-old rolled to his side, curling protectively around himself. His body shook with violent sobs and he hissed wetly into his pillow.

“Please-”

Both of them leaned closer to make out the muffled pleas, Shisui’s eyes set on the outline of Sasuke’s partially hidden lips. So focused, he pushed more chakra into his eyes. Power surged through his veins, and the world bloomed into an impossible spatial resolution. The contour of Sasuke’s jaw as he mouthed his silent cries was as visible and clear as if he were facing him, and the compressed motion of his cheeks spelled out a word.

 _Kurama_.

Red eyes shot open.

It was in slow motion that the black tomoes spun wildly, but Shisui was too slow to react as the whirlwind blossomed into an atomic flower. Fascinated and horrified by the image, he barely registered the tear of blood beading in Sasuke’s right eye as chakra was forced through immature channels.

Itachi grabbed Shisui and ripped him backwards where they braced defensively, fully expecting to be hit with _something_ , but as quickly as they had morphed, Sasuke’s eyes glazed into dull black. He collapsed onto his bed, blood smearing across his face and pillow.

Rooted in place, Shisui spared a glance at Itachi, who mirrored his uneasiness, but it lasted only a moment before Itachi rushed to Sasuke’s side. Shisui let his eyes relax, letting the world slip back into three dimensions, but he wasn’t sure he could get his pounding heart to do the same.

“Is he...” Shisui started, but had too many questions to ask to finish even one. Itachi answered anyway as he pushed damp hair from Sasuke’s face.

“Chakra exhaustion.”

Shisui was _relieved,_ but he put his hands on his hips, chewing on his lip as he tried to sort through the deluge of shit he had just been privy to. 

“What the actual fuck?”

The look Itachi gave was guarded worry, but Sasuke groaned before he could speak. The kid blinked open bloodshot eyes and woozily tried to rise and rub at his face, smearing the blood morbidly across his right cheek.

“Aniki..?”

Itachi’s expression changed instantly, giving Sasuke a soft smile and holding out a prepared glass of water. “You were having another nightmare.”

 _Another?_ Shisui balked. This was a _frequent_ occurrence?

Sasuke looked between the two with unfocused eyes, confused, but Itachi distracted him by pushing the water into his hands. Still dazed with sleep and the sudden expenditure of so much chakra, Sasuke had to focus on taking it with both hands.

“Do you remember what it was about?” Itachi asked, rubbing his back.

Sasuke’s head was bowed, eyes blank on the water, but Shisui could feel him regarding them from the corner of his eyes. He knew immediately the boy was going to lie.

“No.”

Itachi’s expression was as close as he’d ever seen to distressed, brow furrowed and lips turned down, but Sasuke’s face was still wet and red with tears and blood and Itachi wouldn’t push.

“Drink your water and I’ll help you clean up. Your sheets are soaked.”

Sasuke looked at Shisui, who still stood frozen in place, trying to comprehend what this could mean and not liking anyplace it took him. He felt awkward under that bleary black-eyed stare, especially considering what he had seen moments ago. He wanted to ask questions, he wanted to ask a million questions, but this just wasn't the time.

“You should go home and rest now, Shisui,” Itachi said, meeting his eyes in a glance that held enough meaning Shisui felt it in his chest.

The Mangekyō Sharingan didn’t just happen because of a _bad dream._

Sasuke, for all his 6 years of age, caught something in their exchange that made his expression close off and go distant, and that made Shisui nervous in a way that, as a shinobi, he wasn’t used to.

“Yeah. We can talk later,” Shisui said, stepping to the window. He wasn’t in a rush to have his questions answered because he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask them. The whole encounter had shaken _everything,_ and he wasn’t sure where to begin to sort through the rubble that was left.

He did, however, _really_ want to find out who this _Kurama_ was.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alpha are rare but omega are even more rare, so the omegaverse elements aren't going to be overt and beta won't be distinguished because they are the mass majority (95%) of the population. Shisui is, so far, the only presented alpha I've written and Sasuke is the only omega.


	3. Looming Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you see mice droppings, you start to suspect you have mice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I held on to this for too long which is as good a sign as any I need to just post it.

The full looming moon jolted Shikamaru from a restless sleep, sending him scrambling to the shelter of a shadowy corner. His chakra came to him instinctively, gripping the darkness around him like a safety blanket while sleep-addled eyes darted around the room to assess the danger. Only the familiar sights and shadows of his bedroom met him.

It took several minutes to calm the ache of panic in his chest, to reign in his meager but restless chakra. It took even longer to brave a look at his hands.

Nothing.

He let them fall away, turning his attention to the offending light. A beam leaked in from the edge of his covered window, creeping across his futon to rest on his pillow. Harmless and blue as it may be now, it still unnerved him. He had hoped the cloud cover would have continued, but apparently the rain had passed just in time for the moon to reach its apex.

It must be just after midnight.

Feeling both foolish and rattled, he closed his eyes to the entirety of the troublesome night, but his most recent nightmare still lingered at the forefront of his mind. He had no wish to analyze it, no wish to write it down, only to drive it away with the others.

Rubbing his face to rid himself of the ghostly sensation, the tips of his fingers dug into his eyelids. He morbidly wondered what it felt like to have them ripped out, and briefly he considered trying.

His dreams were never useful, just anxiety born imagery about dead family and dead friends. Sometimes they tried to kill him, sometimes he tried to kill them. This time it was Sasuke. Eyes plucked out, crushed in Shikamaru’s own palms, asking why he didn’t protect him. He could still _feel_ his fingers digging into his friend’s skull while the boy just stood there and watched with a macabre expression of trust.

Maybe his mom _was_ right. Maybe he _did_ read too many comic books.

He cursed to himself, angry and frustrated, and slipped out of his room for fresh air. He kept his footfalls feathery quiet as he made his way to the east facing engawa. With nothing to do and nothing to distract him, he turned inward.

It was a year since he had promised Sasuke he wouldn’t let anything happen to him. That they would figure this out somehow. But it was too stressful and confusing, and he _resented_ it. He _hated_ knowing the future, and he especially hated that he didn't know enough.

If he couldn’t fix it this time, the world was done. Fuck. It.

But, he supposed, he lived in this world now and he had made a promise and like hell he would roll over and let it be.

Fortunately, even if he spent half his days chronically sleep-deprived, getting stronger wouldn’t be a problem. While he struggled to grasp his future-self’s _conscious_ memories, his well-honed reflexes and skills came with an ease that was borderline overwhelming. He hadn’t remembered shadow manipulation until his father showed him, but then it came to him on such an instinctive level he instantly grasped finer details it would still take him years to gain the chakra control to master. He’d pressed his father about more advanced techniques, but his dad didn’t seem comfortable going any deeper than theory.

Though, he supposed, it wouldn’t matter much because he still _didn’t have enough chakra_.

Coiling in his body was an ochoko’s worth rather than the ocean his older self had amassed. He had been able to cast entire valleys black and in moments create a forest full of defenses that had taken his clan generations to perfect. Skills born of desperation, forged in war, then whet on years of solitude. Raw overwhelming power that, in the end, hadn’t been enough to save anyone.

Every time he trained, he was only reminded of how weak he really was. How small. How young. How helpless in the vastness of a _destiny_ that had already played out so poorly. Twice _._

At least, he thought, he wouldn’t be alone this time.

Deciding there was no point in waiting on the moon to disappear so he could sleep, he crossed his legs and focused on the hum of the small undeveloped system that circulated chakra through his body. Yin swirled with yang in a calm natural state, but he had no use for yang. The shadows were his friend, and yin came to him with the ease of a stream flowing to a lake. He grasped it, molded it, and pushed it down and out.

His shadow grew.

In the beginning he had struggled to hold opaque wispy tendrils an arm’s length from himself for a few seconds at a time. Now a thick black pool stretched two meters, allowing him to sense the grains of wood and the solid form of the wall behind him. He held it like holding his breath, allowing the sensation to envelop his whole being, to feel and see in the dark, even with his eyes closed.

A spider scurried along the edge and a ghostly finger stretched from the inky shadows to flick it away, but it continued its path unhindered and untouched.

A flash of clammy exhaustion flooded across his face and neck, and he doubled over in gulpy breaths. Forty-five seconds. Two seconds shorter than last week, but if he accounted for the failed interaction with the spider, he could guess he could have held it for another three.

“Don’t use so much at once, or you will burn out before you can connect with anything.”

Shikamaru’s head snapped to his father, whose presence had gone unnoticed until he spoke. He was still in his Jonin Commander’s uniform, shinobi sandals, and looked too haggard to have just woken.

“Yeah, I know,” Shikamaru snapped more than said, then sighed because he hadn’t meant to sound _angry_. He just... was, very suddenly. It took a moment to swallow it down and sigh the tension away before he forced himself to finish in as calm a tone as he could manage. “I was seeing how thick I could spread it.”

Shikaku let out a long weighty sigh but said nothing. His father had a way with silences that could rattle even the most stalwart of Alpha. It wasn't _threatening_ unless you didn't want him to know what you were thinking, and Shikamaru could only guess what his fidgety fingers and evasive gaze gave away. He knew his father was already reading him like a book, and at some point he just had to accept that.

“I know I’m not supposed to practice without you,” he admitted just to break the silence.

“No,” Shikaku confirmed, stepping towards his son. “It’s dangerous. The chakra exhaustion will kill you before you even realize you’re out.”

“I know my limits!” Shikamaru insisted, but a skeptical hum from his father had him grunting in exasperation. “It’s not like you’re ever around to practice with me.”

He regretted it as soon as it was said, but his father let out a huff of a laugh.

“You’re right. And that _is_ my fault.”

Shikamaru rolled his eyes, finding himself frustrated that his father would even agree. “No, it’s not. You’re busy. I get it. I’m not mad about that.”

“I could have not taken the promotion,” Shikaku reasoned, crouching on his heels beside Shikamaru, “I probably would have put off the Hokage’s insistence for at least another two years.”

“It wouldn’t have stopped you from being busy,” Shikamaru told him, tone unintentionally sharp. He sighed, then continued, softer. “At least now you aren’t gone for long missions. You come home at night.” He peered at his father’s uniform and the shoes he still hadn’t removed.

“Sometimes, anyway.”

Shikaku laughed at this. “Which makes for an even more lousy excuse.” 

His father rested a hand on the crown of his head, heavy and warm and strong. A rough patch on the thumb scratched the tender skin of Shikamaru’s forehead, and he found that even that frustrated him. Like his father’s calluses were somehow proof of his own deficiencies.

He hated how everything reminded him he was 6-years-old.

He scrubbed his face with his hands, vision’s of Sasuke’s bloody face creeping back.

“Why are you just now getting home?” Shikamaru asked.

“It’s troublesome,” was offered with a grimace, Shikaku scratching his head. “I’m not supposed to bring work home, and there was a lot of work today.”

“That’s lame.”

“You should be asleep,” his father stated. Shikamaru agreed, but only offered a shrug as he gazed out into the shadows of the forest. His father continued. “Did you have another nightmare?”

With a shake of his head, Shikamaru lied, and it made the ire creep up again.

“I can’t tell if you stay awake all night because you sleep all day or if you sleep all day because you stay awake all night.” It was meant to be a joke, but it felt short and somehow made Shikamaru feel even worse.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Shikamaru’s heart lurched with yearning to do just that, but his throat closed on any meaningful answer. “It was stupid.”

“Maybe,” Shikaku said, tilting his head in observation, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t talk about it.”

Shikamaru chewed on his lip, eyes settling on a grain of wood his nail traced. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d had this particular dream; it was just disturbing now that all his anxieties seemed to be Sasuke-based.

“It was stupid,” he repeated, then shrugged. “I just had a dream I hurt one of my friends.”

“Is it something you want to do?”

“No!” Shikamaru snapped, but recoiled at his own hostility. He softened apologetically and continued. “Never. Not-… He’s my friend.”

“Tell me what it was about,” Shikaku urged gently and Shikamaru looked to his hands, running his thumb over the tips of his fingers. He considered how he could explain it, but would only raise concerns over his mental health. Shikamaru could deal with this. He always did.

“Has anyone ever told you you comfort with the efficiency of an interrogator?”

It was another deflection, but his father’s responding laugh was warm, and he felt better despite himself.

“Once or twice,” Shikaku admitted as he rocked to his feet. He towered over the sitting 6-year-old, and Shikamaru felt safe in his shadow.

“You wanna play a game of Shogi?” His dad asked after a moment. When Shikamaru hesitated he added, “It will help you get your mind off it. You might yet get some sleep.”

Fresh from a long day at work, he must have been exhausted, probably looked forward to bed for hours, but he still offered the only comfort Shikamaru ever truly welcomed: distraction.

“Yeah. Okay, but if I win, I’m un-grounded,” he challenged like he had ever gotten close to winning once his father realized he had to take him seriously. Shikaku grinned as he helped Shikamaru to his feet then pat him on the head.

“If you say so, but that might be something you’ll have to take up with your mother.”

* * *

He was in a better mood the next morning, though mostly because he was too _exhausted_ to be irritable. He didn't know when he’d fallen asleep - the last thing he remembered was trying to stave off an oncoming attack on his king - but he ended up in his bed. His father was gone by the time he was woken for breakfast, his mother offering little reason beyond someone had come to retrieve him.

Shikamaru knew only Anbu would have bothered his dad so early. 

Still, he was desperately sleepy, so he yawned between each bite of food while ignoring his mother’s remarks about not sleeping in class. He had only managed to be marginally more awake by the time he made his way towards the Akamachi compound to walk to school with Chōji.

What he found was Ino.

“Hello, Shikamaru!” she chirped, and Shikamaru tossed his head back to let out a bone weary groan. She huffed. “Don’t be such a baby. We haven’t walked to school together in _ages._ ”

For good reason, he thinks. There was nothing more horrible than a morning person, and dealing with one was a fate worse than death.

And Ino was a _morning person._

He broke into a teary eyed yawn as he came to a stop before her. She stood patiently by the Akamachi gates, hands clasping her bag in front of her in a way that made her _almost_ look innocent, but Shikamaru knew better. They had been closer before school started, and she unceremoniously dumped him and Chōji for Sakura. It was fine and expected. The three of them were stuck together because of clan bonds, whether they liked it or not.

Lately, however, she’d been trying to wheedle her way into his _guy_ friend group, which _would_ be fine if it wasn’t solely for one single purpose.

“Sasuke and I don’t walk to school together, you know.”

She did well to suppress the twitch of disappointment on her face, but the dramatic flick of her hair and haughty poise fell short of anything but suspicious.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He eyed her with a frown. It was unfortunate because Sasuke would probably like Ino if Ino wasn’t such a, well, _girl_ about him. Sometimes he considered telling her Sasuke would be an omega and wouldn’t have any interest in her — or really anyone who wasn’t Naruto — but that was something he shouldn’t _know_. Alpha genes ran strong in the Uchiha clan, and it was easily accepted when Sasuke was gendered as a probable alpha, but if he hadn’t corrected anyone Shikamaru wasn’t about to.

“Troublesome,” he muttered instead. He expected to be pelted with poorly concealed questions regarding his friend, but Chōji appeared through the gate only a few moments later.

“Hey Shikamaru. Ino,” Chōji greeted, then to Shikamaru, “What did you guys get in trouble over yesterday?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Ino leaned in, eager for gossip. “What _did_ you guys do to get into trouble?”

 _There it was,_ Shikamaru thought as he rolled his eyes. He yawned again as he started down the street, the other two in tow. “Tsujii-sensei thought we cheated on our test and made us retake one.”

“ _Did_ you cheat?” Ino asked.

“ _No_ . Tsujii-sensei was just looking for a reason to punish us,” Shikamaru insisted. Ino hmmed in doubt, but he ignored her. Kiba _did_ cheat, but he wasn’t gonna rat him out to her.

“He is pretty weird over Sasuke,” Chōji commented, earning a surprised look from Shikamaru. “I mean, he’s pretty mean to everyone. But he’s _really_ nasty to Sasuke.”

Indignant, Ino huffed and lifted a clenched fist. “Oh man, I can’t _stand_ that guy. You know, he once gave Sakura a 0 for using a blue pen.”

“He’s such a bad teacher,” Chōji agreed. “Why had anyone thought to give him a job.”

“That’s a good question,” Shikamaru found himself wondering out loud.

“Maybe he’s spying on us _?_ ” Chōji suggested in a conspiratorial whisper. Shikamaru considered him with a frown, a vague tendril of an idea forming, but Ino laughed derisively.

“You can’t possibly be saying that he’s been gathering _intelligence_ from a bunch of 6-year-olds?” Ino asked with a dismissive gesture. “He’s probably just some old ninja they don’t have anything else to do with.”

“Yeah,” Chōji conceded, “why use him when you can use someone like Iruka-sensei or Daikoku-sensei who we all like and talk to.”

Shikamaru let his head fall back to gaze at a cloud billowing above them, casting a shadow over their path. He could feel the chill as soon as they stepped into it, and he was tempted to clasp it, darken it and make it his own and hold it in place. He could do that, he thought, if he had enough chakra.

“How many kids have stopped coming to school since last year, do you think?” he asked them.

“Hm. Shintarō and Waka from class B stopped coming this year,” Chōji supplied, “So did Seiki from C.”

Ino shrugged unbothered as they strolled along. “They probably just couldn’t keep the curriculum or the tuition.”

“No way," Chōji shook his head. “Waka was top of B class. Maybe he’s in a higher grade.”

“No. He was an orphan. He wouldn’t have had anyone to sponsor him for advancement,” Ino pointed out. “Probably didn’t have the tuition.”

“There’s a fund for orphans that pays their tuition, isn’t there? How else does Naruto afford it? He never has any money.”

Shikamaru frowned deeper at their conversation. Chōji _was_ right: there _was_ a fund for shinobi born orphans, and Shikamaru was pretty sure at least one of Waka’s parents must have qualified. He was too knowledgeable to have grown up around civilians.

“Naruto is a special case,” he told them after a moment, “He has that crappy apartment, remember? So _someone_ is paying for him.”

“Maybe his parents had money,” Ino shrugged, “Oh, but you know _Seiki_ was a _Nohara_.”

Shikamaru sighed as his friends speculated back and forth in idle curiosity about the other two missing kids, but he had a feeling he’d just stumbled upon a trend. He cursed to himself, grappling with dots that connected only in conjecture but felt too fragmented to comprehend.

_Troublesome._

He huffed as they reached the school, Ino perking up and bouncing away as soon as she spotted Sakura in a swarm of young, helpless, children.

* * *

“Am I making a mistake?”

The only answer Shisui could offer was to start heating water in a kettle. There wasn’t a suitable response — no words could _fix_ this — and there was no way to avoid putting Sasuke in danger. It was dangerous for them to meet like this, so it said a lot that Itachi, the real one, had appeared at his door as soon as he’d been able. Shisui had managed a few hours of sleep, but with so much to unpack about the revelations of the night, it had been fitful despite his exhaustion.

“How is he?”

“He had a fever,” Itachi confirmed, still standing awkwardly in the middle of the small 1K apartment. “But it broke. Mom thinks it was because he trained in the rain yesterday.”

“Is she going to have the doctor see him?” Shisui asked, because the clan doctor would no doubt pick up what was wrong and waking up with chakra exhaustion would throw too many red flags.

“No. He seemed fine. He was already up and insisting he was well enough to go to school, but mom is gonna make him wait a few hours.” Itachi chewed his lip a moment before he met Shisui’s eyes, “Should I... Am I making a mistake?”

“What do _you_ think you should do?”

“I _think_ I should be going on a warpath,” Itachi huffed with a laugh that was anything but humored. “Mom certainly would.”

The whole clan would be enraged, assuming it wasn’t somehow their fault, but that was a suspicion he wasn't prepared to entertain just yet.

“It seemed last night this wasn’t the first time. How long has this been happening?”

Itachi’s shoulders slumped with guilt and pain crossed his face in a way that Shisui had never seen on the stoic boy. “A year.”

“A _year?”_

“Last April, but it only happens on the full moon and that's only the second time I've seen him...” Itachi swallowed, struggling to finish.

“His eyes,” Shisui inferred. Itachi nodded.

“I thought I had imagined it the first time because he was _five._ He was only just about to start school!”

“Tell me about what happened,” Shisui said, moving to sit beside his kotatsu. It wasn’t cold enough to use, but it was the only table he had. Itachi took the queue and sat with him.

“I went to wake him for breakfast and he was having a nightmare. I didn’t think anything about it until I touched him and he nearly broke my wrist.” Itachi rubbed his face. “That was when I first saw his eyes, but he didn’t do anything like he did last night. It was just a flash of red and then he was wide awake.”

“What did he do?”

“He jumped up, got dressed, and left the house. I followed him, but he went straight to the Nara’s and didn’t come home till dinner time. After that, he was attached at the hip to Shikaku-san’s son. This was a few days before they entered the academy, so I don’t know when or how they met.”

The kettle started a low whistle and Shisui jumped to take off the heat before it started screaming. “What did Sasuke say?”

“Much the same as he was last night. I’m sure he remembers his dreams but isn’t aware of what he’s doing in his sleep. If he knows his eyes have matured, he’s not saying. He used to be so obsessed with awakening it. I would think he’d run straight to father.”

“Why do you think he would hide it?” Shisui asked, taking two steaming cups of steeping tea to the table. Itachi took his with a grim expression.

“Maybe to avoid the registry? Maybe he told father, and _he’s_ the one hiding something. But I have a hard time believing that when he allows Sasuke to spend so much time with non-clan members.” Itachi gazed at his cup, eyes dull and tired with worry. “He spends more time at the Nara’s then he does at home, most days.”

Shisui considered this and considered the complexities of childhood trauma that were so often neglected in their line of work. “Do you think they share some kind of trauma? Or he somehow found himself able to talk to Shikamaru rather than an adult?”

“I feel like that is the most likely explanation, but it makes me wonder how much Shikaku-san knows.”

“Surely if something _had_ happened to Sasuke that he knew about, he would tell your parents.”

“I want to believe that, as well, but I’m starting to see conspiracies everywhere.”

“There _are_ conspiracies everywhere.”

Itachi huffed a laugh, even if it was truth rather than a joke.

“He’s an honorable man, I’m sure, but...” Itachi shook his head and sighed. “If he had a good enough reason to keep what he knew from my parents, our _clan_ , he would.”

“You don’t think-.” Shisui cut himself off, because that's exactly what Itachi was thinking. He chewed on his lip, fingers tapping the ceramic of the cup, but he fell short of making the same leap for one good reason. “If he’s keeping a secret about Sasuke, then it’s much more reasonable to assume it has something to do with his son, too.”

Itachi hmmed, though Shisui doubted he’d said anything that Itachi himself hadn’t already spent months mulling over. Then he remembered something.

“Who’s Kurama?”

Itachi looked up, confused at what must have seemed like a change in topic. “Kurama?”

“Kur-a-ma,” Shisui confirmed, shaping the sound as he had watched Sasuke do against his pillow. “He said it last night. I mean I could only tell what he was saying because of Mangekyō's complex spatial details, but he was definitely pleading with some Kurama.”

“Kurama... Kurama...” Itachi tasted the name, tilting his head as though to analyze the syllables. “I don’t know anyone by that name. Do you think it could be who he was fighting in his dream?”

“Maybe?” Shisui said with a shrug. “It’s worth looking into.”

Itachi groaned at this, his head falling to the table. “Am I really doing the right thing by not telling anyone?”

“What’s the alternative? A 6-year-old on the registry with a fully evolved dōjutsu? Your mom is one of the few rational voices left and even she’s on the fence. What do you think she will do when she finds out someone has hurt Sasuke? What do you think the clan will do when they find out what kind of weapon he could become?” Shisui grit his teeth, frustrated at his own words and how useless they were. They felt weak in the face of everything, just a reminder of the mire of shit they found themselves in. “No one is thinking rationally right now. I’m not even sure we are.”

“I’ve failed him, somehow, Shisui,” Itachi said mournfully, “And I don’t know how or where or when. And I don’t even know how to start to fix it.”

Shisui didn’t think he could, but he could at least try to help his friend. “Well, first we need to find out who this Kurama is. It will give a degree of separation if I do the digging.”

Itachi nodded. “The station should have access to the village visitor’s logs. Maybe someone by that name showed up last year. Could also be a code name or nickname.”

“We should probably keep a better eye on him in case whoever it is is still in contact with him.”

Itachi winced. “I’ve got an extended mission I leave for tomorrow.”

"Another one?" Shisui asked with a sigh.

"Shikaku-san assigned it," Itachi said carefully, working his jaw.

Shisui narrowed his eyes. Nara Shikaku had assigned him to the disaster he'd just come from. Back to back away from village assignments given to their Squads seemed to be coming from the Jonin Commander, an authority Shisui hadn't even realized the position had. In some ways, he supposed he could have been grateful. It offered a much needed breather from the politics they were embroiled in, but it was becoming a burden on their already precarious roles.

“I’ll keep an eye on him. Sasuke, that is,” Shisui said, though he was worried he needed to also monitor Shikaku.

They did not want the Nara’s seeing them as enemies.

“Thank you,” Itachi said, bowing his head gratefully. “I can’t express how much I owe you. He’s not your brother and you have no obligations to help me.”

“No, I don’t have any obligations.” Shisui agreed, “I’m helping because I want to and I want to find out what happened, your little brother or not.”

Itachi nodded, painted nails running along the ridges of the cup. “If you could... maybe scent him. See if...”

The request was soft, but Shisui blanched. He wished he'd thought to do it last night, but sizzling chakra overwhelmed much of his senses. He couldn’t say for sure if he’d picked up on anything too suspicious, but if enough time had passed, he might smell nothing at all.

Shisui hesitated before speaking again. “There’s one more thing we need to address. What he did was dangerous. And not just his eyes. Any uncontrolled elemental release is dangerous, but he was using lightning.”

“I know, but I don't know how to approach it. Perhaps if someone were to train him, but I’d have to find someone and Father wouldn't be happy about it because Sasuke still hasn’t mastered fire release yet.”

“Maybe Lightning comes easier to him,” Shisui hypothesized, “and maybe your dad need not know.”

Itachi didn’t change his expression, which told Shisui how very little he liked having something else to keep from his family.

“How about, while you are gone, I train with him? It will help me keep a better eye on him and I’ll have a chance to properly scent him. _And_ if someone who knows better lightning release control happens to be watching...”

“Shisui...” Itachi started to warn, but the older boy shook his head.

“There are people we can trust with at least that.” Deciding his tea had seeped long enough, Shisui took a sip and winced at the chalky bitterness. After two months in his cupboard, the leaves had gone stale. “It’s too dangerous to allow it to go untrained. It might help stop him if he has a conscious outlet.”

Itachi looked like he wanted to fight it, and Shisui understood his impulse to restrict access to his little brother. He had already failed to protect him once, but this wasn’t something he could allow time on. Sasuke could literally fry his own nerves. After a moment, Itachi relented.

“Okay. I’ll trust you. But-”

“I’ll be careful,” Shisui reassured. “Sasuke is in safe hands and I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt him, you have my word.”

Itachi nodded, burdened and distant as he took a sip of his own tea, then winced.

“Ugh, this is awful.”

“Fuck you,” Shisui snapped back, though the tea was _awful_ . “Next time _you_ make it.”

Itachi laughed lightly, and Shisui considered that a win.

* * *

Shikaku had stopped trusting anyone about three days after he first took the position as Jonin Commander. He wasn’t a suspicious man, but when you see mice droppings, you start to suspect you have mice.

And now he was seeing shit everywhere.

“You’re sure?”

Did he have proof? No. Was he sure?

“Yes,” Shikaku affirmed, tapping the folder against his leg. “It’s well executed. I doubt we will find any evidence otherwise, but that doesn’t mean I won’t eventually find a trail. I’m just not sure it’s going to be soon enough to help any investigation.”

Sarutobi Hiruzen gazed out the window, his sorrow palpable in the air. It shadowed his face and made the God of Shinobi look fragile and weary of his ever increasing burdens — the newest of which sat in a morgue.

Tobe Masaaki had been a good man. As Panda, he was the oldest of all Anbu with nearly 20 years in Black Ops, and it seemed the closest to retirement he would ever get was heading Second Squad and Rotation 9-10.

Rotation 9-10, commonly referred to as just _The Rotation_ , was simultaneously the least popular, most boring, most _frustrating_ S-Class assignment an Anbu could be given. Some signed up for it between missions, the pay was good and never took them from the village, but mostly was given to new recruits.

But in reality, no one really looked forward to following Uzumaki Naruto around.

For the last 3 years it had fallen to the responsibility of Captain Mama Bear (no one called him Mama Bear within ear shot but no one called him Panda outside of it.) He was a taciturn, serious man who was given multiple chances to change positions but always found his way back to lead Second Squad and it’s ever rotating roster of newbies. It suited him; he admitted to Shikaku only a few months before, five days on/five days off. A comfortable, well-paying schedule. He was a widower with no family, no distractions.

No one to miss him when he was gone.

The Sandaime’s silence stretched on. It was weighty, but Shikaku was patient. He recognized there was a lot on the Hokage’s plate, most of which had been put there by Shikaku himself. Sometimes he felt bad about it.

Sometimes.

“Second Squad B is expected to be relieved today,” Hiruzen said, finally turning to him. “I supposed now is as good a time to enact your recommendations.”

 _It was,_ he thought, and that was what disturbed him most.

“I already have my choices picked,” Shikaku placed the folder on the desk. “Though I would like to brief Hound before then to catch him up.”

Hiruzen nodded, pulling open his desk drawer. His finger ran over a worn seal, activating it with chakra. Somewhere in Konoha Hatake Kakashi’s arm burned with the summons.

Panda had been the only reason Shikaku hadn’t pressed the changes he desperately wanted to make to Second Squad and Rotation 9-10. Even within Anbu it was hard to replace the Old Guard, but this wasn’t how he wanted the opportunity. It was more than a little dubious.

“You’re a very thorough man, Shikaku-san,” Hiruzen commented as he looked over the documents. “I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m glad you finally took me up on the offer to become my commander.”

“I still regret it daily, sir,” Shikaku admitted humbly

A grin crossed the Sandaime’s face just as a flurry of air fluttered the papers in his hand. Hound appeared, kneeling in the center of the room, obedient and silent. The Hokage looked at him, tiredness drawing lines around his mouth. How many times had he been forced to stand before his subordinates and announce death? Shikaku wasn’t sure he could have counted.

“Stand, Hound. I assume you’ve already heard about Panda?”

“Yes, sir,” Hound said, straightening as ordered. Hiruzen sighed, then nodded.

“For the time being, you will be heading Second Squad. The commander will give you the details. He will be taking on the responsibility of ensuring the security of our most precious secret.” He turned to Shikaku, then gave a secretive grin. “Are you sure I can’t give you another promotion? I’m far too old for this job.”

Shikaku grimaced. “That would be a very emphatic no, sir. The one I _did_ take is troublesome enough.”

The old man nodded with a chuckle. “Well, I’m going to leave this to you and take the opportunity for some fresh air.”

“Yes, sir,” Shikaku said, bowing his head. When the man was gone, he turned to Hound, who looked as casual a man at attention could. He knew him as well as anyone did on a personal level, which meant he didn’t know much. He was an alpha, but he kept his energy tightly reigned in. Not that alphas had ever particularly phased Shikaku. He was a Nara, and there wasn’t a lot that did.

“Like he said, for now you have Second Squad. Expect to stay on Rotation until I’m satisfied with the investigation,” he briefed. Hound tilted his head.

“Investigation? I thought...”

“I doubt they will turn up anything more, though...,” Shikaku tapped his fingers to his thigh, considering. He could trust Kakashi, probably, but he was no longer in a position to freely offer such a luxury. “From this point on, Second will have the same qualifications as First. No negotiations, no schedule, and no volunteering. Agents won't know they’ve been assigned until they are summoned and won’t know when they will be relieved until their replacements arrive with the code phrase.”

There was a whole body shift in Hound, his shoulders pulling up. “Is there an active threat on the target?”

“There is _always_ an active threat,” Shikaku stated plainly. “The security of the kyūbi jinchūriki is as important to the safety of the village as the Hokage, and we have enemies who would eagerly take advantage of such a vulnerability. 9-10 will no longer be treated as a _training_ assignment.”

Kakashi inhaled as though a single breath could gather his thoughts. With the mask, Kakashi was as unreadable as he ever was, but Shikaku could feel the piercing gaze of the single grey eye and was glad he had his attention.

“I understand.”

Shikaku nodded. “Your team will be summoned at 1100 hours to receive your assignment and relief code. Dismissed.”

With a flurry of leaves, Hound disappeared, leaving Shikaku alone in the Hokage’s office.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The coming chapters are gonna have to focus to the older character's POV to progress the plot, but I want to know if you guys prefer longer more complete chapters or shorter more frequent ones?

**Author's Note:**

> If I were to send my knowledge to my 5-year-old self I'm 100% sure I'd make it way worse. I mean, aside from an information overload my adult brain has developed a lot more than my kid brain was and there's just no way I'd be able to fully comprehend it all. 
> 
> I'm writing this as an exercise to combat a nasty case of creative block and to finally put something I've daydreamed about for years into words. 
> 
> To clarify Shikamaru's "dream" was basically Naruto cut short of defeating Kaguya with A/B/O elements. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and I would love to hear your thoughts.


End file.
